Zoals zo vaak, eigenlijk.

The return of the insults and verbal attacks has brought it all back, this socially-retarded vibe that I have had to deal with in this realm since the first time I brought this XBOX into my home. Games as simple as Uno that have a chat aspect result in a panoramic display of asshatery, an in-my-face demonstration, from a consistently rotating cast of characters, just what the true meaning of the words stupid kids arises from.

Tycho and Gabe paint this world in their conventions and website, this idea that gamers are a community o[r] a club or at the very least a sort of person who has certain elements, and when you bring them together, the best of their elements shine through. Maybe in the course of a physically-based assemblage we see less of this side of things, less of this mercenary and self-centered behavior, but I honestly start to think it’s the exception and not the rule.

This situation reminds me of how much I hated people when I was younger, hated their delight at attacking the different, of reactionary burblings from morons unfamiliar with a need to shave. A hatred of proto-adults delighting in how little they know, how poorly they can speak, how inadequate their single handful of vocabulary is. I spend a lot of my time doing what might be called generous work for many folks online, but experiences like this make me consider how few of my audience I might actually like in extended conversation, how little they would have to offer me as associates, how better off I am that I haven’t met them. Given the choice, I would make no effort to hold the elevator door open for them, or stop the subway car from closing up and moving on, leaving them in the rain.

Sartre was right. And I am positive he’d have laughed into his headset all the while.

Ik haatte andere mensen, denk ik, bijna heel mijn schooltijd lang. Actief haten.

Op zeker één en zeer misschien twee of drie uitzonderingen na, met hun gepest en hun vriendenclubjes en hun uitgaan en hun kunnen dansen en hun groepsmentaliteiten en hun kijk-eens-hoe-middelmatig-wij-zijn, en hun niet eens bewust neerkijken op alles wat anders was.

Oei. Dat deed een beetje meer pijn dan ik eigenlijk verwacht had. Daar dacht ik zowaar aan mijn schoolbespreking van één van de boeken van Sartre, dat ik wel goed vond, behalve dan het happy end.